


Don't Give Up On Me

by TonySnark (Sherlocked729)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (Sorta) Good Guy Murphy?, But this takes place in season 1, Clurphy Feels, F/M, He's actually a pretty decent guy in this, Murphy Isn't Entirely Horrible, Naughty language, Original Character - Grounder, Post-Apocalypse, Protectiveness, Season 3 and on Good Guy Murphy, Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-07-01 07:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15769566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlocked729/pseuds/TonySnark
Summary: Clarke and Murphy were separated from the other kids during a Grounder attack. Now, Clarke and Murphy must survive together or go out on their own and risk dying alone.





	1. Tired of Everything

**Author's Note:**

> My first 100 fanfic! 
> 
> I'm making this story set around the 1st season, but I've also added black rain to the mix. Murphy is a little out of character but I tried to combine his personality from the 1st season and the 4th and 5th seasons.

.     .    .

 

“Murphy?” a voice called out in a hushed whisper.

The young man looked up from the burnt up ground and sighed before he absentmindedly rubbed his face with a dirty hand. He was tired of this; tired of being quiet all the time, tired of needing someone to know where he was constantly, tired of looking over his shoulder for grounders. He was just tired of everything.

“Murphy!” the voice called out again, this time a little louder.

“Yeah, over here, Clarke!” he finally acknowledged.

She stealthily made his way over to where he stood and looked around before she looked at him with gentle eyes. “You need to keep your voice down,” she whispered to him.

“Says you who kept screaming my name a minute ago. It’s been three days. We’re starving, Clarke. I’m dying of thirst. Why can’t we just go back to the drop ship?”

He rubbed his eyes, feeling dizzy and exhausted. He didn’t hate her for keeping him here, hiding out from the grounders because he also didn’t want to be back to the place they were forced to call home. He didn’t belong there, not where everyone despised him and wanted him dead. This actually felt easier than being in that place.

She looked worriedly at his pale face and bit her lips before straightening her back. “You know why we can’t. You’re just tired, hungry and thirsty, just like me. We need to find food and water before the sun sets.”

Even Clarke sounded tired. She was probably tired of babysitting him. Looking at her right now, he sighed but he made sure his voice came out kind.

“We’ll find it, Clarke. Come on, we should keep moving. I think I heard water over this way,” Murphy pointed towards the East.

She looked unsure but nodded anyway before she started to follow him. “We shouldn’t go too far from the bunker.”

“I know, we’re not.”

He led her over a hill and down to where he thought he had heard a stream the first day they had found this place. Everything had been chaotic; Bellamy, Monty, Finn, Jasper, Clarke and him were all out here hunting when grounders attacked. She had heard Finn cry out in pain but didn’t see his injury.

Murphy had been grazed by an arrow and it hurt more than he had cared to complain about. He had looked over to see Clarke dazed by the sudden attack, a wide open target. He went against his better judgement and hurried towards her before grabbing her wrist and leading her towards the bunker just as the toxic fog appeared.

Every time the two of them started to head back towards the drop ship, they heard footsteps behind them or felt eyes on them so they doubled back towards the bunker to hide out for a while. Every time he thought it was safe, it wasn’t and survival mode kicked in. He didn’t know how much longer they were going to have to camp out together but he could feel his sanity decreasing with every passing day.

“Murphy… I think we should head back.”

He smirked when he saw the river. He glanced back over at her. “Still think that? I told you I’d find it.”

She smiled for the first time in days and she basically dumped her whole body into the water before she gathered it in her hands and drank some before filling a canteen. He watched her, smirking to himself before doing the same thing.

The water felt cold and refreshing. He closed his eyes and washed his hands in the water before washing his face up as well. Once he finished filling his own canteen, walked over to her. She looked back at him, still smiling, and he could see a speck of dirt on her chin.

He took his wet thumb and washed it away softly before he searched her face. “Good thing we can handle the radiation.”

Her smile fell as she nodded, reality hitting her again.

“We still need food.”

Murphy rubbed his temple and grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”

She looked at him before she started walking back towards the bunker. “We’ll set up some snares tonight and see what we catch in the morning.”

“Aye, aye. You’re the one in charge of this two man crew.” He followed her, keeping his ears open for grounder sounds. He didn’t stop walking until they were close to their temporary home and watched as she grabbed a small rope from her pack and quickly set up a small animal snare before doing the same with another tree nearby.

He kept a lookout for her, almost looking forward to sleeping in the bunker again. He did miss having a fire but they didn’t want to draw too much attention so if they made a fire, they made sure to make it short term, and only for cooking food, and then they put it out.

“Okay, let’s get back.” Clarke walked in front of him and led him back to the bunker again. Once they were safely underground, she sat down on one of the cots, looking down at her hands.

Murphy lit several candles to light the room and give them some small warmth before he sat on chair, watching her. Suddenly, he saw tears on her face and heard a small whimper coming from her.

His stomach clenched uncomfortably, looking her up and down to make sure she wasn’t hurt. Unable to find any serious injuries, save for some shallow cuts and bruises, he moved over to her and sat down beside her on the cot.

He wasn’t good at this kind of thing, comforting others. Crying people made him uneasy. He wouldn’t let himself be this vulnerable in front of other people so he couldn’t understand why they would let themselves be that way in front of him.

“Clarke…” He started awkwardly, feeling a foreign tug in his chest when he saw her trying to wipe away her tears. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair.

“We’ll find food tomorrow. I think we’ve just been in this… hell pit for too long.”

She nodded and swallowed hard as she tried hard to pull herself together. “I-It’s not just that. It’s… all of this. Everything. Being banished down here, everyone can’t get along long enough to survive, the grounders a-are attacking us… a-and now this.”

He nodded in understanding. All of it was pretty frustrating. Even he could relate.

“Geez, Clarke, I know you’d probably prefer Finn or Bellamy down here with you but that’s pretty harsh,” he attempted to joke.

She shook her head, sniffing as she looked down at her hands but she had chuckled weakly. “No… this is a nice change, actually. I was getting pretty sick of both of them calling me Princess.”

He smirked and chuckled as well, looking at her. “Yeah, well they are both pretty damn annoying.”

She smiled and shook her head, sighing. “You’re not as bad as everyone says.”

“Oh yeah? Well… it’s still early. Just… give it time.” Murphy was feeling grumpy from not eating and barely sleeping and he could feel an anger bubbling at the surface. He fought to keep it behind his teeth, though.

“Get some sleep, Clarke.”

She laid down but looked up at him. “What about you?” She asked, her eyes already starting to close.

“I’ll go to sleep in a bit. Of the two of us, I think we’ll need you more tomorrow than we’ll need me. I’m pretty much useless unless you need someone tortured.”

She still looked up at him but her voice was far away. “Not useless. Maybe you can torture the next squirrel we catch so we can eat it…”

He chuckled and smirked. “Good night, Clarke.” He was already halfway to his own cot when he heard a faint voice.

“Night, Murphy.”


	2. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another update for the one person who said to continue!

Murphy was almost asleep when he felt hunger pangs and heard his stomach growl. Wait. That wasn’t his stomach; it had been hers.

He glanced over at her, only a couple feet away from him. She was curled into herself and he could tell she was feeling similar pains in her own stomach. He swallowed hard before he grabbed his canteen and quietly unscrewed it before taking a drink from it and then screwed it back on again.

She looked as tired as he felt. He had only gotten a few hours of sleep the whole night because sometime in the late hours, he heard screaming. He couldn’t deny how scared he had been and was surprised when she hadn’t woken up at the noise. The screams had been blood curdling but he couldn’t tell which side it was on.

It didn’t sound like Octavia.

Or Raven.

Or Harper.

Maybe it had been one of the guys. If that was the case, then something bad must have actually happened.

He watched her sleep and realized he didn’t want to wake her. He grabbed his knife from the table nearby and quietly left the bunker before closing it behind him. Clark should be doing this, not him, but for some reason, he didn’t mind.

He wanted to get out of that underground hell hole. He needed air.

Murphy checked his surroundings first before he hurried over to the homemade snares and knelt down to collect the radioactive hares that were there. He grimaced in pain and groaned to himself, having forgotten about the arrow that had grazed his side.

When had that even happened? Yesterday? Day before?

No, wait. It had been at least a week and a half. A week and a half since he had been stuck alone with Clark. Making fires. Hiding. Surviving. Time was just a concept now.

He suddenly felt a wave of dizziness come over him and he rubbed his eyes before holding himself steady with one arm. He had to get back to Clark before she realized he was gone or he knew she’d come looking and calling for him, which would just endanger both of them.

He killed the rabbits quickly before setting the snares back up and then made his way back to the bunker again, closing and locking it after he had made it back down.

“… Murphy…?”

He looked over at her and smirked, more to himself than at her. “Mornin’, sunshine. Thought I’d go out and check the snares.”

She forced herself to sit up and looked at him with hopeful eyes. “Anything?”

He nodded and then held up the two small rabbits.

“Not much, but it’s enough for us.”

She gave a grateful smile and then stood up but almost fell back down again. He dropped the rabbits on the table and hurriedly made his way over to her, wrapping an arm around her back to keep her upright and steady.

“Whoa, Clark. You should sit down,” he pulled out a chair and helped her in it. “You all right?”

She studied him with almost curious eyes but nodded. “Y-Yeah, just weak. How are you feeling?” She looked at Murphy with cautious eyes before they saw his side, curiosity quickly turning to worry now. “You’re bleeding…”

He looked down and winced before he sighed, shaking his head dismissively.

“It’s just from before, back when we were all attacked. I must have broken the scab open or something. I’m fine, Clark.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, going into doctor mode as she lifted up his shirt to take a closer look at it.

He tried to keep still, even when she accidentally tickled his lower side. Murphy watched her tend to him. “So? How bad is it, doc?”

She glanced up at him and sighed. “It’s deeper than we thought. It’s not just a graze, Murphy. The arrow cut you open. You need stitches –"

“ – And alcohol, and bandages,” Murphy interrupted her softly. “Which are all back at the drop ship. We’ll just have to make do with what we have right now. But… priorities. We need to eat or we’ll die in this goddamn bunker.”

“We need to make a fire,” she sighed again, running her hands through her hair, a Clark sign that she was getting stressed out. “We need to go back out there and find a spot.”

Murphy took the knife and started to skin the rabbits the way they had been taught in Earth Studies on the Arc. He was quiet for a while, focusing on skinning as he tried to think. The pain in his side was starting to increase, though, making the task at hand difficult.

“Murphy? Did you hear me? We need to go out there and make camp somewhere…” Clark had probably meant to sound angry or frustrated but her voice sounded far away, distant.

He looked over, taking in her deteriorating figure. She had already lost a small amount and he needed to change that. Murphy didn’t want to be the person in charge; he had grown so used to having it be her.

“I heard you, Clark,” he continued to pull off the fur and then grabbed a bowl before filling it with a quarter of water and some soap and washed his hands. “I don’t think it’s safe up there yet.”

“What? Why do you think that?” Her head shot up to look at him.

He chewed on his lower lip. “I… I heard screaming, early this morning. I couldn’t tell what side it was coming from but… it doesn’t change anything. Something’s happening up there and we need to stay away from it, whatever it is.”

She looked as if he had slapped her. “Our people are probably fighting the Grounders, thinking that they killed us or kidnapped us! We need to go up there and find them before a war erupts.”

Murphy turned around and looked at her, feeling frustrated as well, but for different reasons. “No! We don’t need to! If we go back to our camp, we’ll get attacked by the Grounders. Do you really think ‘our people’ care about us that much? I know that you’ve got special admirers back at camp but I don’t! Going back there isn’t high on my priority list!”

She stood up slowly so she could at least meet his eyes. “We need to go back to camp eventually, Murphy. We can’t just live out here alone. We’ll never make it.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, we’ve been doing pretty good so far.”

She sighed heavily and glanced back at his bloodied shirt before she took a long drink from her canteen. Clark walked over and grabbed the mini first aid kit in the bunker before she grabbed a rope and tied the skinned rabbits to her waist.

“Let’s go find somewhere to set up camp,” she said with frustration in her voice, giving Murphy a cold look.

He nodded. “After you.”

She struggled to open the top of the bunker but eventually opened it and groaned as she pushed it open. He made sure she got out okay before he got out as well and closed the bunker back up. He followed Clark closely, in case she fell again.

He felt the pains in his stomach again but ignored them. Even if they were upset at each other for wanting different things, they had to focus on surviving right now. They walked for about three miles before he started to recognize the area a bit. He tensed up a bit; she was taking them back to the drop ship, the long way, away from Grounder territory.

She stopped and looked at him. “We’ll set a fire here. Go find some wood for us.”

Murphy resented her for giving him orders like this but he was also in too much pain and feeling too weak to argue. He had reservations leaving her alone but he resolved to look for wood and sticks nearby so he could keep an eye on her, make sure no one hurt her.

He didn’t know where this protectiveness was coming from. He never had felt the need to protect anyone as vehemently as he did her. He admired her strength, the fact that she fought back at him, standing up for what she felt was right. Even if she was so frustrating to the point he wanted to pull his hair out, he still admired her for fighting back, always fighting back.

He knew without a doubt that he was no angel either so he didn’t hold anything against her.

He groaned softly as he leaned down to grab the nearby sticks and logs, hissing occasionally in pain. Okay, so maybe he was in some minor trouble right now. He was just grateful that the arrows hadn’t been poison or anything. By the time he had gathered enough to last them the day and night, he was exhausted.

He walked over and dumped the bundle of sticks on the ground near the fire and watched as she started to get to work to place them in a pyramid shape. He helped her to make the job go twice as fast, kneeling down on the ground beside her.

Once they got the fire going, he grabbed two thick, long sticks and poked the rabbits through the ends before holding them over the fire. “Never thought I’d be holding dead rabbits over a half assed fire in the middle of the forest,” he admitted, trying to break the tension.

She let out a weak chuckle but then grew quiet. “I… found a small bottle of alcohol, back in the bunker.”

Murphy raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Oh yeah? Break it out, Clark. We can have ourselves a little party.”

She didn’t smile this time. “I wasn’t planning on drinking it. I’m going to use it on your wound.”

He half smirked humorlessly and nodded. “I was afraid of that option. From the way you’re talking, it doesn’t sound like I have much of an option.”

“We need to take care of it before it gets infected and you get sepsis. We should do it after we eat.”

He nodded reluctantly. A part of him wanted to get it over with right now if they were going to do this but he knew they both needed to eat before they passed out. She needed to be as focused as possible.

“I think we should start heading back tomorrow, to the drop ship,” she said quietly, tiredly. “I know you’re afraid to go back but… you’re one of us. You’re also My People. I’m not going to leave you out here.”

Murphy glanced up at her, examining her face. She was tense, as if she was afraid of another argument. He sighed. “I’m not afraid. I just… don’t consider anyone My People back there. Except maybe you. You’ve helped keep me alive out here since the attack. I just hate everyone back there, and they hate me. It’s not my Home, but then again, I guess the Ark was never my home either.”

He knew he was just rambling now but it felt good to talk to someone.

“When we get back there, you can stay by me, if you want, Murphy,” she offered, searching his eyes carefully. “I know you’ve got enemies, but… I think we all do. It’s good to stick together. I’ll have your back?”

He gave a small smile now, nodding once. “Yeah, all right, Clark.”

“Good.” She smiled weakly back at him and then grabbed her stick and started to eat the cooked rabbit meat hungrily.

He chuckled as he did the same. What a sight they had to be right now. They probably both looked insane from the outside. Murphy didn’t care right now though; he was ravenous. Both of them ate their respective rabbits in a comfortable silence and felt better when they had finished them.

He felt his stomach give a nervous churn when he saw her reach in her pockets and take out a couple bottles of clear alcohol before setting the med kit down. She opened it and looked at him anxiously.

“You should take off your shirt for this.”

Murphy sighed but obeyed, pulling off his torn shirt from his body before he looked at her. “This is gonna suck.”

She bit her lip but nodded. “Yes, this is going to suck.”


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .....

**.       .       .**

Murphy thought he was going to pass out from the pain as Clarke sewed him back together but he somehow managed to stay awake and conscious through it all. By the time she was finished, he fell onto his back, breathing heavily as exhaustion took over his body.

The pain had drained him.

Clarke poked the fire and added another piece of wood before she looked over at Murphy worriedly. “I know it hurt but it had to be done.”

Murphy looked down at the gauze bandage she had placed over her handiwork to keep the stitches from getting infected. He sighed shakily and nodded, looking over at her.

_Damn, she looked so goddamn cute when she was concerned about him._

“I know, Clarke. No worries.” He watched her give him a weak smile and then looked up at the sky as started to darken. He felt like they were being watched, because he knew that they had always been watched ever since their drop ship came down.

He knew when he was being watched. Murphy had experienced the feeling for years growing up under his parents’ eyes. Up until his father got floated and his mother blamed Murphy for it, at least. Once that happened, it didn’t matter anymore who was watching him.

Now, it seemed to matter again; it meant life and death.

He groaned as he stood up and moved over to Clarke, his protective instincts kicking in again.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be moving around right now, Murphy. You could rip your stitches!”

The man gave a half shrug, sitting beside her.  “Then you’ll stitch me up again.” He watched Clarke give him an half-amused look as he became silent. After a few minutes, he spoke again, but this time, in a whisper. “I think the Grounders are watching us.”

She tensed up beside him. “How do you know?” She whispered back.

Murphy looked around with his eyes but didn’t see any movement. “Just a feeling.”

“We’re out here like sitting ducks,” she observed quietly, frustration laced in her voice. “I don’t like this. We don’t have any weapons to protect ourselves with, but that wouldn’t matter anyway.”

“What do you mean, Clarke?”

She looked over at him. “This is their land. They know it a hell of a lot better than we do right now. We’ve only been here maybe, what? Two and a half weeks? All I know is that we’re about a day’s walk from the drop ship because we can hear them.”

Murphy nodded, poking the fire in thought. “Are you scared, Clarke?” He had great difficulty  keeping out the malice in his voice.

She was quiet for a long time before she bit her lip. “Being a stranger in a strange land totally defenseless? Hell yes, Murphy. I _am_ scared.”

He looked over at her but she didn’t look it. He moved closer to her and he felt her head on his shoulder as the young woman moved closer to him too. Murphy tensed slightly; he’d never had a girlfriend before, at least one that hadn’t come with consequences.

“It’ll be okay, Clarke. I’ll keep watch if you want to sleep.”

She didn’t touch him other than resting her head on him. She didn’t argue with him, though. Instead, he waited until he felt her breathing even out when he finally let himself relax a little. He kept the fire going and kept watch until the sun came up again.

By that time, he didn’t even feel tired anymore. He felt hungry again, and dehydrated but other than that, he felt hopeful.

“Dad… I’m sorry, Dad…”

Murphy had picked some nearby berries for the two of them and was eating some of his share right now when he heard her murmuring in her sleep, almost whimpering. He moved over to where he had left her, her head on a small clump that was his jacket. He knelt down beside her and grabbed the shirt he had kept the berries in.

“Hey, Clarke. It’s morning…” He spoke softly, gently trying to shake her awake.

She whimpered again and then saw a lone tear run down her pale cheek. Murphy hesitantly took his thumb and wiped it away before he chewed on his lip.

He took a berry and gently slipped it between her lips, coaxing her to open her eyes now. She chewed on the berry as she glanced around, her eyes finally settling on Murphy again, relaxing.

“Mmm… these are good. How did you know they weren’t poisonous, Murphy?” She looked uneasy, nervous.

He shrugged, searching her face as he ate another. “I saw some rabbits eating them. I don’t think they’d eat them if they were poisonous.”

Clarke looked partially relieved before her face turned regretful. “Damn it, we should’ve set up snares.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that would’ve been smart. Too late now, though.”

“Well, thanks for the berries,” she smiled softly before grabbing her canteen of water and drinking it thirstily. “How’s your wound? Does it hurt?”

Murphy ate a handful of berries before he moved onto his knees and took off the tape to show her the stitches. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

She looked relieved. “We should start heading towards our camp before it gets dark again. If we walk at a decent pace, maybe we can make it back before it gets too late.”

Murphy took a drink from his own canteen before he put the bandage back on himself and grabbed his shirt. “All right. After you.”

She put out the fire before grabbing her things and then started to walk towards the drop ship. He struggled a bit to keep up with her pace, always ending a few paces behind her. Murphy groaned, feeling the stitches rubbing against the gauze, feeling hungry and exhausted after three hours of walking.

“Why are we going this way? This is the longer way back to our people, Clarke,” he complained.

She caught him as he nearly fell forward and then moved them to a nearby log. She lifted up his shirt and looked at the reddened wound before changing the bandage again. “I know, but I figure maybe we can shake whoever’s following us if they realize we’re going a longer way back. I don’t know, Murphy. I just don’t want to run into anyone on their main trails. Sometimes it’s safer to take the backroads.”

“Whoever said that is full of shit…” He groaned, rubbing his eyes.

She sighed and stood up, looking down at him. “My father said that.”

Murphy felt regret fill him up instantly. “Clarke…”

“Come on,” she interrupted him. “We need to keep walking.”

He swallowed hard but nodded before he forced himself to stand up again. He struggled to keep a good pace with her but he suspected she was mad at him for his remark earlier; she made sure to keep them several feet apart.

When he didn’t feel any eyes on them, he spoke. “Sorry, Clarke. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine. Just keep walking.”

He watched her as she walked, remembering something. He swallowed hard. “Y-You and your mom tried to help mine… after my father was floated.”

Clarke glanced back at him now with curiosity. “What?”

“You tried to help my mom, when she started drinking a lot. I remember that you tied her down, trying to detox her, or something, and your mom poured all the alcohol down the drains. I also remember your mom offered to watch me too.”

Clarke was quiet for a long time and Murphy started to wonder if she had heard him. She then said in a soft voice, “I remember.”

He licked his lips, nodding, still following her. “It was… my fault that my father got floated. Did you know that, Clarke?”

She looked confused now and stopped walking to catch her breath. “How was it your fault?”

He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I was sick. I had the flu and my father had to steal the medicine for me.”

The confusion on her face grew even more. “That wasn’t your fault, Murphy. You were a sick child. All kids get sick sometimes… that isn’t anyone’s fault. You blame yourself for your father getting floated?”

He shrugged. _Did_ he blame himself? He honestly didn’t know.

“My mom told me every day it was my fault he died. Listen to someone tell you it’s your fault that something happened enough times, you start to believe it is.”

Clarke wiped her forehead on her sleeve before she shook her head. “No. It wasn’t your fault, Murphy. My mother knew your father. They were friends, and… she told me he loved you and he stole that medicine to help you. She said that he would do anything for you. It wasn’t your fault you got sick, though. If anything, it was his fault because he got caught.”

Her words touched him to his core. She had spoken a loud the words he had always thought to himself a million times before but was afraid to admit. If he hadn’t gotten caught, then he never would’ve gotten floated. It had been his own fault for not being careful enough.

“T-Thanks, Clarke.”

She gave him a small smile and nodded. “Come on, just a little bit longer and then we’re home.”

_Home._

This wasn’t their home, but the Ark never felt like home either. The drop ship was their new home, in this dangerous territory they weren’t familiar with. Back there, he would continue to be hated by everyone who crossed his path, and vice versa. He’d be enemies with Bellamy Blake, The Girl In The Floor, all of Clarke’s little friends… although a part of him wished that it didn’t have to be that way.

He wanted to be friends with Bellamy. The man was smart, and he knew how to survive, even if he only thought of himself sometimes.

But most of all, he wanted to be near Clarke. He wanted to make sure no harm ever came to her, regardless that she was strong enough to take care of herself. He wanted to eat with her, sleep near her, talk to her.

Murphy didn’t think that things would go that way, though, once they made it back to the drop ship. Everything would change, and not in his favor.

“Clarke,” he whispered sharply before he reached out and grabbed her wrist, almost in a panicked state, his heart racing.

She looked at him up and down quickly, as if he had gotten shot with another arrow. “What? What is it? Are you all right?”

He searched her face. “D-Did you mean it? What you said about…. Us being friends when we get back? I mean… can I…. stay around you?”

She nodded and gently moved his hand down so they were clasping hands. “Yes. I meant it, Murphy. You could’ve just left me out here alone to die, but you didn’t. You held out your own and you’re half the reason we’re going to make it back now. You’re safe with me. I promise.”

He relaxed significantly and gave her hand a squeeze before he nodded. “Okay.”

She smiled and then began walking again. When they had finally arrived near the drop ship, Murphy felt arrows on them, but this time, he knew it was their own people. He followed her closely, ready to fall onto his knees when they made it inside to kiss the ground.

Instead, he fell into a nearby ship seat and closed his eyes.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Murphy. You’re not going to be here long,” Bellamy’s voice rasped nearby.


	4. Not Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I know I haven't updated for awhile, but I haven't given up on this fic. I'm glad people are still reading it! 
> 
> Please comment if you like it! Also glad I'm not the only person who loves this ship pairing.

**.     .     .**

Murphy woke up to the sound of arguing and then felt a sharp pain when someone grabbed him before throwing him onto the muddy ground a few feet away. He groaned in discomfort before looking up to see his attacker, his eyes falling on no other than Bellamy Blake.

“Why am I not surprised?” He asked icily, holding his wounded stomach and cringing when he felt blood. “Just couldn’t stand that Clarke didn’t let me die out there, could you?”

“Shut up, Murphy. We both know you should’ve died when we first landed, with the others,” Bellamy sneered at the other man before he kicked him.

“Hey!” came a female voice. “What the hell, Bellamy?! He’s already injured!”

“Don’t worry, Clarke,” Bellamy grabbed John now and threw him against one of the manmade hatch walls. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t cause any more problems for us.”

John met Clarke’s worried eyes behind Bellamy before he looked back at the other man, trying not to show how weak he actually felt right now.

“The only one causing problems right now is you! Let him go, now,” she demanded, burning a hole in Bellamy’s head.

He glared at Murphy venomously but didn’t let go of him. “What good is he, Clarke? You wouldn’t have had to be out there if it wasn’t for him. He could’ve gotten you killed.”

She now grabbed his shirt to pull him away from Murphy, and he reluctantly let her, letting go of the other man now. He turned around to face her. “We all got separated last week! It wasn’t Murphy’s fault, and you know it. You’re just looking for a reason to kill him, and I’m not going to give you it. Step away from him before I hurt you myself.”

Bellamy’s eyes now filled with worry. “Clarke, he’s gonna screw you over one of these days and it’s going to be too late to help him.”

Her eyes hardened now at him. “Leave him alone, and from now on, consider him under my protection.”

 _I don’t need you to claim protection for me, Clarke._ Murphy would have said those words before their adventure together, but if he was honest, she was probably the only thing keeping him alive right now.

Bellamy shook his head before sighing heavily and walking away from both of them. She moved closer to Murphy before lifting his shirt up to look at the bandage that was bleeding through.

“Shit, it looks like he broke open my stitches. We need to get you cleaned up. Come into the med tent.”

He let her lead him inside and leaned against a table, realizing he was still covered in mud. He was quiet for a while, watching as Clarke started to prepare to stitch him up again, motioning for him to take off his shirt. He did so in silence and chuckled when he felt the cold rubbing alcohol against his pale skin.

“That’s unnecessarily cold…”

“I know, but it’s better than actually alcohol.” She threaded the needle and sighed. “Sorry we have to do this again, Murphy.”

“No sweat, Clarke. It’s not your fault. I expected it from him. He can’t stand that I’m still alive and walking around. He’s right, though…”

She glanced up at him after she carefully slid the needle in and out, causing him to groan inwardly before sighing. “About what?”

“About how I’m not good for anything. My mother thought as much too.” He had his eyes closed, not wanting to see the pity in hers.

He felt her sew him up with careful precision, only feeling slight pinches every now and then.  She had this caveman stitches down to a science by now.

“Murphy,” she said gently, tying up the last stitch. “Listen to me; you’re good for something. Don’t let Bellamy, or anyone else, make you believe you’re worthless, because you’re not. We helped each other this past week, right?”

He nodded in agreement before he opened his eyes to look at her, swallowing hard.

“Neither of us would’ve made it out there by ourselves. We did it together. Just ignore Bellamy when he starts on that.”

“I’ll try. Every time he talks, I feel tempted to punch his face through his skull,” John admitted.

She looked at him a bit amused, but her eyes were filled with disapproval.

“Sometimes I am too, but we need him, just like we need you too. We all bring something to the table and we can’t afford to lose our heads and start killing each other.”

He nodded and smirked. “Make sure you tell him that.”

She finished putting a new bandage on his wound and nodded as well. “Yeah, don’t worry, Murphy. I will. Just… keep being helpful around here, okay? Don’t give him a reason to throw you out there. I’ll help you when I can, because I promised, but I can only do so much.”

He nodded in understanding. “I know, Clarke. You keep being our fearless leader and I’ll keep on staying out of Bellamy’s way.”

She smiled softly and searched his face before she put his shirt back down and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder before walking out of the tent.

He rubbed his tired eyes, realizing that he hadn’t slept much the whole time they had been out there together. Murphy was about to walk out as well when Bellamy walked inside. He stiffened but kept his back straight, almost challengingly.

“Just can’t get enough of me, can you?” He stared at Bellamy coldly. No doubt the other man had waited until Clarke was out of sight before he had slipped in.

“Tell me what happened out there. Tell me _exactly_ what happened out there, Murphy. Don’t leave anything out.”

“Well, what exactly do you want to know?”

“I want to know what happened once you got separated from the rest of us. What happened out there? Did you get attacked? Did you hurt her at all? Did you attack anyone else? I want to do what happened.”

Murphy narrowed his eyes coyly. “Why not ask her? Why do you trust me to tell you the truth?”

Bellamy pressed a finger against the re-bandaged wound, causing Murphy to flinch in pain, nearly falling back against the table. “I don’t trust you too tell me the whole story, which is why I’m also going to ask her after I’m done here with you.”

He hissed in pain before he moved away from the taller man. “Fine! All right! Jesus… we got separated but I didn’t see her at first. One of the Grounders hit me with an arrow but I thought I only got grazed so I ignored it. Then, I found her, we found water, and a bunker and went the first night without food. Then we found it the next morning, and we were basically just walking closer and closer to the drop ship, but the Grounders were watching us the whole time. I was bleeding a lot, and she stitched me up, and we finally made it back here again.”

Bellamy looked at him skeptically. “And you never hurt her?”

“Why would I hurt my only hope of getting back here? She helped me. I helped her. End of story.”

“We’ll see, Murphy.”

He watched as Bellamy finally left the tent and Murphy followed him out to see him walk towards Clarke. He decided now was a good time to make himself useful. He hadn’t lied, but Bellamy would find any dumb reason to banish him or kill him.

He decided to find better tarps and tie them up so more people could find shelter from the rain. It was a small bit, but he felt like it would earn him kudos with a lot of people. No one else was doing it, anyway.

_What had Bellamy expected him to say? That he had attacked Clarke like a wild animal? That he had even gone as far as to rape her? Christ._

He was a lot of things but John Murphy was not a rapist. An arsonist and an asshole, definitely, but not a rapist. There was no doubt he had a black hole of anger, rage, and sadness inside of him, so much so that he didn’t know how to act most of the time. He never felt tempted to act out that rage on women, though. The most he could see himself do was maybe yell or scream at them, which he knew was also bad, but nothing was bad as the big R.

He finished tying up the tarp, almost falling off the makeshift ladders more than once, but now a good chunk of the outside part of the drop ship was shielded from rain and any other bad weather. By the time he was done, his arm muscles were sore, and the pain from his wound was searing, but at least he was accomplished.

He walked back towards the small metal door he had claimed as a part of his own “room” and moved it under a part of the tarp so he would be safe from the rain as well. He had laid down when he saw Octavia walking towards him with a plate.

He slowly sat up, cringing slightly. “Feeding the monster?”

Her face gave nothing away but Murphy knew she was only doing this to piss off her brother. She handed him the plate that had meat and berries on it. He nodded in thanks as he accepted it gratefully and watched as she disappeared into her own tent.

She was a strange one, and regardless of her being Bellamy’s sister, she wasn’t like him and it was obvious she had no intentions of ever being like him. He felt something admirable about that.

He started to eat the mysterious Earth meat with his fingers, surprised at how good it tasted. No worries if it was radiation-ridden; so were all of them.

 

**. .  .  .  .  .   .   .  .  .  .   .   .**

_“This is your fault! He was floated because of you! You killed him, John… you killed your father!”_

Murphy woke up abruptly, breathing heavy as sweat glistened on his face. He glanced around, trying to remember where he was.

_He was on Earth. He wasn’t on the Ark anymore._

He ran his fingers through his hair angrily before he kicked the nearest thing to him, which was a piece of scrap metal off the drop ship. He cringed as it made a loud metallic sound, seemingly echoing throughout the camp. He just couldn’t control himself.

The worst part was that he wasn’t even angry at her for blaming him; he was angry at himself because he actually felt like it had been his own fault for his father being floated. He took a deep breath and watched as the sun started to come up, the rain having temporarily stopped.

He saw the fire had gone out in the middle of their encampment and he started to rebuild it. The fire felt safe in an unsafe new world. The fire meant food, and clean water, and safety; it was important they kept it going.

He shaped the pieces of log and sticks in a triangular shape and relit it before he added some fuel from the ship onto it to keep it going for a while. He stood up and glanced around for Clarke but didn’t see her.

Something in his stomach twisted uncomfortably, and for once it wasn’t pain from his grazed skin. He felt like something wasn’t right. He reluctantly went up to Bellamy.

“Where’s Clarke?”

The other man stiffened at her name and almost glared at John. “Why do you even care? You couldn’t get enough of trashing her before when we first got here. Now suddenly, you’re her best friend?”

Murphy sighed, rolling his eyes. “I’m serious, Blake! Where is she?”

The other man sighed now before shrugging. “She went to look for food.”

John looked at him in disbelief. “Oh, and you thought it was a good idea for her to go alone? What if the Grounders took her? That bullshit would be on _you_!”

“Shut up, Murphy!” Bellamy shoved him hard but he stayed on his feet. “Clarke’s not alone, anyway. Monty’s with her.”

“Oh great. I bet they’ve both been taken by those Grounders then!” He started towards the gate when he heard footsteps running to catch up to him. He was ready to be surprised that Bellamy agreed to join him in his search of Clarke but instead was met with his sister. He stopped now to look at her, glancing over at Bellamy who was watching them intently.

“Where are _you_ going?”

“They’re both my friends. I’m not staying behind so they can be Grounder barbeque.”

Murphy sighed, tonguing his cheek, weighing this decision. It’d be better than going out there alone, but there was a chance she could hold him up. Fortunately, he didn’t have to think about this for long because Bellamy was right there too.

“Where do you think you’re going, O? Get away from him.”

She moved closer to Murphy, away from her brother. “You’re not my keeper, big brother. I’m going with him to look for my friends. You’re not going to stop me anymore. Come on, Murphy. Let’s go.”

John smirked at her defiant attitude and was about to follow her when he felt a sharp grip on his arm tug him back, suddenly feeling Bellamy’s hot breath near his ear.

“If you so much as speak to her wrong and I’ll lock you out of here forever, Murphy. You’ll never see any of us again. Do you understand?”

Murphy ripped his arm out of Blake’s grip now and looked at him calmly. “You’re not the authority down here, Bellamy. Your sister has her own life now, like it or not. She’s no longer locked up. You can’t control her, so stop pretending like you can.” He hurried to catch up with Octavia.

Neither of them spoke for a good half hour as they walked towards the river, Murphy more or less following Octavia. “Do you know where you’re going?”

She knelt down on the ground and put her fingers to the drying mud before she glanced back at him. “Do _you_?”

He smirked and shrugged. “I just figured they’d be picking the berry bushes by the river clean. Wait, are you tracking? How do you know how to track anything?”

She started walking again, away from the river now. “I might’ve been locked up, Murphy, but I can still read books. I had nothing but time.”

“Ah,” he continued to follow her but was feeling like he was being hit with déjà vu. They were heading back inside the forest; he recognized this as the same path him and Clarke had taken on the way back home near the bunker.

“Were you really planning on going in here by yourself?” She asked skeptically. “I mean, I’m sure my brother would’ve loved that but it’s a stupid move.”

He shrugged, watching her walk on, glancing around at her surroundings for clues to Clarke’s whereabouts.

“You had balls, coming in here with me, against Bellamy’s wishes. Looking for a new life?”

She glanced back at him, searching Murphy’s face for a few moments before looking ahead of them again. “We get a second chance here, right? We should live it the way we want, and not let anyone stop us.”

John nodded to himself. “Yeah… you’ve got a point there, Blake.”

He had to hand it to her; for someone who had been locked under the floor her whole life, she was strong and independent, not to mention self-educated. He was glad to be out here with her, even if she was Bellamy’s sister. At least one of them should know where they were going.


	5. Alive and Breathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm writing like crazy lately! I have too many feelings and no life, okay?

**.      .     .**

If Murphy was being honest, there were worse people to be stuck in the irradiated forest with. He couldn’t deny that he missed Clarke’s optimism, however. Octavia Blake was all right as a person, but she had a dreary, ultra-realistic sense of optimism.

_If we don’t get find them, this will have been a waste of a trip and we’ll die of starvation before we can get back._

At least Clarke gave hope of finding food and gave a plan B option in case they couldn’t find any in time.

It was nearing noon and the temperature was rising a bit. As Murphy walked behind Octavia, he noticed small beads of sweat appearing on her neck, her dark hair tied up in a messy bun. He could tell she was getting tired though; they’ve been walking nonstop since about 9.

“Hey,” John spoke gently. “Let’s take a break. You look tired.”

“I’m fine, Murphy,” she continued walking and stumbled a little before she fell forward, putting her hands out in time before she could face plant on the ground. She groaned in frustration before she wiped her forehead with her shirt sleeve, sighing. “We need to keep going. It’s been hours and we still haven’t heard them.”

He handed her his water canteen, grateful when she took it willingly. “We’re not going to find them any sooner tripping and stumbling because we’re too exhausted. Just take a few minutes.”

She sighed again, nodding reluctantly. The two of them sat in silence for about five minutes before Octavia looked over at him, her eyes almost fearful. Almost.

“Do you really think we’ll find them, Murphy? What if the Grounders took them?”

He felt something ache inside of him but wasn’t familiar with the feeling so he pushed it away. “If they took them, then… we’ll get them back. I mean, they’re our people, right? We gotta get them back.”

This seemed to help her relax some, earning him a weak smile and a curt nod in agreement. “Right.”

He ran a hand through his hair before taking a drink from his canteen and hooked it back around his body again. He looked down at her. “Ready?”

She nodded and took the lead again. They walked on in a comfortable silence for a while when they heard a scream, and then a loud yell. Murphy reached out and grabbed Octavia’s arm to stop her from walking closer, his eyes looking over at the lit up torches they were only about fifty feet away from.  He crouched down, bringing her down gently with him and looked around.

“I think we found our friends,” he sighed, hearing Monty yelling profanity in the distance.

“Yeah, no shit. So what’s the plan now?”

He thought for a minute. They’d have to be careful. Who knew how many were around the Grounder encampment right now? “I think we should wait until it gets dark.”

Octavia looked at him in disbelief. “Are you serious? What if they’re hurt? We need to get them _now._ They could be bleeding to death.”

He couldn’t deny he felt conflicted but he didn’t think going over there in broad daylight was a good idea. “They’re going to see us if we go in there right now. There’ll probably be fewer Grounders there at night, and we’ll have stealth on our side if we wait until later. Going in there now is suicide.”

She looked hesitant but shook her head. “You stay here if you want, Murphy, but I’m going in there to help them.”

Octavia snuck away from him before John could grab for her again. He cursed her under his breath, feeling his heart racing in his chest with indecision. He couldn’t let her go in there alone. He hurried after her, trying to stay low to the ground until he caught up to her.

“Over there. Look,” she whispered to him, pointing about ten feet away to where he saw Clarke and Monty both strung up respectively, their wrists tied together over their heads, their toes of their shoes just barely touching the ground.

He swallowed hard, eyeing at least seven Grounders with weapons at their sides. He looked over at Octavia. “I see seven armed guards. We should take them out one by one and free Clarke and Monty.”

“’Take them out’? With what? Do you see a bone club in my hand, Blake? What the hell do you suggest we take them out, my canteen?”

She sighed in defeat but he could tell the wheels in her head were turning. “Well, what do you think we should do? We need to help them!”

He flinched at her exclamation and put a gentle hand to her mouth before he eyed her pointedly before putting an index finger to his own lips before he whispered.

“No one’s disputing that, and we _will_ help them. We need to wait it out a few more hours, until it’s dark. Okay? We have no weapons with us. We need to have something on our side in this,” he urged.

Octavia’s body was tensed up but she nodded in agreement reluctantly. He relaxed a little now and sat down against the large rock they were leaning against. She sat down as well and the two of them waited, and waited… and waited.

They took turns chugging from his canteen as the sun eventually went down and the Grounder encampment was only lit by the torches. She nudged Murphy awake and motioned with her neck. “What’s the plan?”

He forced himself awake and looked around, remembering what was going on. “We go in, avoid the Grounders, hide in the shadows, and quickly untie their ropes. Here,” he took out a knife he had in his pocket and handed it to her. “Cut it.”

“What about you?”

He shrugged and stood up but stayed hunched over a bit. “I can untie it. Once you get one of them, go back to the drop ship. If we get split up, we’ll meet at the bunker a couple miles away from here.”

She nodded and looked apprehensive before she led him towards the huts and near the cave that interconnected to the rest of the forest. Murphy followed her at a distance and walked until he heard muffling. Octavia stopped too, apparently hearing it as well.

The two of them glanced around and saw Monty in the hut. Murphy motioned for her to help the man before he walked over to Clarke. She met his eyes but he silenced her by putting his finger to his lips again. She nodded and looked around.

Murphy knelt down by the nearby fire and started to hurriedly untie the knot attached to a stump. He was so focused on the knot that he heard Clarke’s alarmed muffles too late and then felt something hard hit him across the face, landing him on his back.

Dizziness took over Murphy, then pain. He felt warm blood slowly cascading down the side of his head and groaned in pain.

“What have we here? Did you come to help your fellow trespassers?”

He looked up to see a young woman with dark hair that was braided extravagantly around her head. She looked finely muscled. “T-They weren’t trespassing! We were looking for food and they stumbled into your camp!”

“Excuses! Liars!” She hit him again and turned to see what condition Octavia was in but didn’t see her or Monty anywhere.

 _Good, at least two of them got away._ Unless the Grounders just had them somewhere else.

The female warrior’s eyes followed his and grew filled with rage before she looked around hurriedly, turning her attention to one of her own. She spoke in their native language before Murphy heard her speak in English as well. “Where is the boy?! Where did he go?”

“He just disappeared, Mari. I don’t know what happened to him.”

She knelt down in front of Murphy, placing a hand on his head before she grabbed his hair forcefully. “Where is your friend? Where did he go?”

Murphy groaned again but realized she never saw Octavia, or rather, Octavia never let herself be seen. He forced his eyes back to her. “I-I don’t know…”

She looked a bit alarmed before her jaw clenched angrily. “You will take your friend’s place. Get up!” She spoke her foreign language to three of her own people before watching them take off into the forest.

Murphy dragged himself to his feet, his head still spinning. He fought against her but she was surprisingly strong. He grunted as she pushed him to the ground, tied his hands behind his back and threw the rope over the post before tying it in a knot again.

He glared at the woman before he glanced over at Clarke, her face scratched up pretty good and her eyes filled with annoyance and tiredness but otherwise looking all right.

“You will look at the Leader!”

Murphy felt a hard hit against his skin now and then tasted blood in his mouth. He looked back at the Grounder leader and spit the blood at her feet before smirking. “We’re not alone out here. Our people are expecting us to come back soon and when we don’t, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Okay, so maybe that was a partial lie, but she didn’t need to know that. Honestly, Bellamy only cared about Clarke, but maybe that would be enough for him to gather up a team to find them.

The Grounder leader watched him curiously, looking like she was thinking. She smirked now and shook her head. “There will only be your own hell here.”

Then, he felt another hard hit, and then everything went black.

 

**.  .   .   .   .   .   .**

When he woke up again, it appeared to be mid-morning, and he could feel the skin on his wrists burning fiercely and his head was pounding in agony, but his first thought had been…

_Clarke._

He looked over but didn’t see her. His heart started hammering in his chest furiously now, thinking the worst.

_They killed her to prove a point. They killed her to prove that none of us are safe from these people._

He felt scared, but not for himself. Never for himself; right now in his life, he didn’t think he was worth anything alive. He was scared for Clarke. Murphy knew she was one of the strongest women he’d ever met in his life, but there was a mysterious feeling inside of him that was still worried about her safety.

“CLARKE!” he screamed now, if nothing but to let himself be angry or at least cause attention to himself. “HEY! ASSHOLES!”

The woman that he knew as their leader walked over to him from the caves as he knocked over a nearby table.

“Is there a problem, Murphy of the Sky People?”

He froze at his name, along with what sounded like a tribal name as well. He glared at her. “How do you know my name? Where the hell is Clarke?!”

She looked behind her brought her hand up to signal someone. A few moments later, the familiar head of blond hair had come over to them. She had a fresh cut lip but nothing looked broken on her body. Murphy relaxed some now, seeing his friend alive. He felt relief spread through him like wildfire and he let out a breath.

“Jesus… Clarke. What the hell’s going on?”

“Untie him,” she ordered promptly. “Please.”

The leader looked from Murphy to Clarke before she sighed and brought her hatchet down on the rope that bound him. He lost his balance momentarily before catching himself again and untying the rope around his wrists before throwing it to the ground.

“Thanks,” he rose his eyebrows at Clarke in question. “So fill me in on what I’ve missed since she put me in blackout town. Are you two suddenly chums now or what?”

Clarke looked at the leader. “Can I please have a minute to talk to him alone?”

The woman looked skeptical but she nodded before turning away and walking back towards her people. Clarke moved over to Murphy and examined his face.

“Her name is Anan and she gave me a chance to explain why we were in their territory.”

Murphy eyed her lip. “Was it before or after she gave you that?”

Clark ignored his question. “I told her the truth. I told her we were out looking for food for our people, and we didn’t know it was their land. I told her that we crashed here a couple weeks ago –"

Murphy scoffed now. “ – As if they didn’t know that already. They attacked us last week!”

“I don’t think it was them. She told me there’s at least four different factions of Grounders all split off in this place. She thinks it was her brother’s group that attacked us.”

Murphy sighed and shook his head in disbelief. “Well, fantastic. So it was them. Grounders are grounders, Clarke. They’re all the same, and in case you missed it before while you were off in La La Land, they strung you up too! Oh, and don’t forget Monty! Are we supposed to just let that go?”

“We have to, Murphy!” She searched his eyes wearily. “I just made peace with these people and in case _you_ missed it, she let you go. So… let’s go home now.”

He was quiet for a few moments, his anger starting to disappear now. “We can’t yet,” he said calmly. “We need to stop at the underground bunker first.”

She knitted her eyebrows in confusion. “What, why?”

“Because I told Octavia Blake that in case we all got separated, we’d meet there, so we all knew the others were all right. We can go now and be there by dark. Then we’ll head back to the dropship in the morning,” Murphy explained, not used to having a plan, but this one made the most sense.

Clarke nodded, appearing too exhausted to argue with him anymore. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

He watched as she walked towards the Grounders and glanced around. Their setup was primitive, but smart at the same time. Not many possessions, but perhaps that made it easier to move if they needed to. He wondered if Octavia would stay at the bunker with Monty, or if the two of them would split, thinking Clarke and Murphy were lost causes, and go back to the drop ship.

Would they be waiting at the bunker for nothing? How did they even know their friends were even still alive?

He didn’t like not knowing, and felt better when Clarke came back, carrying a small, leather pouch around her body. When he glanced at it, she answered, “food.” He nodded, feeling his stomach growl with hunger, but didn’t say anything. He just wanted to get to the bunker before it got too dark out.

The two of them walked in silence for a bit before he looked over at her. “Are you okay, Clarke? Did they… hurt you anywhere else?”

She looked at him in surprise, taken back by his concern for her but shook her head. “I’m okay, but thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem,” then, after a few minutes. “Did they say anything about Octavia and Monty? Like if their people killed them and strung them up somewhere or anything?”

Clarke rubbed her eyes before taking a drink from her canteen. “Anan told me that her people saw them run off before they could catch them, and then her people turned back. They’re still alive, as far as I know.”

Murphy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “How are you holding up? You look wiped.”

Clarke let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, thanks. I feel it. It’s a matching set.”

He also laughed softly and looked at the placement of the sun. “Well, we have a several hour hike before it gets dark and before we get to the bunker. Why don’t you tell me more about your mother, Clarke?”

“Well, she’s stubborn as hell, but… strong. Fierce. Always tries to do the right thing.”

Murphy smirked. “Sounds like someone familiar.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling softly. “I’m not strong, or fierce, but I _am_ pretty stubborn.”

He looked at her in mock disbelief. “You aren’t serious, Clarke? You’re… smart as hell, and… strong as hell and I don’t know any other person like you, man or woman. You may be stubborn but not as much as Bellamy Blake, and… I don’t know anyone else who can stitch so fast like you do.”

He was having difficulty acting so human but he knew he needed to tell her these things before they ended up Grounder meat. This was a dangerous new world, and it had quickly become apparent to Murphy that either of them could die at any time. He didn’t want her to die not knowing how amazing of a person she was, or how valuable he considered her, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual.

Anyway, the feeling he had felt before when he thought she was dead had been so overwhelming, and it hadn’t been like anything he had felt before. It was like a surge of adrenaline drowned in devastation and sadness and anger and rage. It had been a tidal wave of pure emotion that he hadn’t ever felt since his father had been floated.

She looked at him and made sure they locked eyes before she spoke again, her own eyes soft. “Thank you, Murphy. Really… that means a lot to me,”

He shrugged dismissively, feeling uncomfortable with the eye contact but had a half smile on his face. “One of us needs to be useful anyway, right?”

Her smile faded now. “What? What do you mean by that?”

“Oh c’mon, Clarke… you know how worthless I am around here. I don’t do a whole lot except be Bellamy’s punching bag. In all truth, I probably would’ve been better off being floated with my father. I’m worth more dead than alive,” he answered, matter-of-fact.

He wasn’t fishing for sympathy or anything like that. She had asked, and he was simply answering her because he felt like it was the truth.

 _No, he knew it was the truth._ His mother had reminded him a thousand times a day that it had been his fault, and he really didn’t see a purpose in his heart beating still.

What had people called that? Depression? He didn’t know, but he felt like he should be dead.

She stopped walking and reached out to grab his wrist gently stopping him now. He looked over at her, her eyes filled with concern and sadness.

“Murphy, you’re worth living. You put those tarps up before so people wouldn’t get rained on, and the fires wouldn’t get washed out. You helped me before with the rabbits when we were out here last week together. You kept me company so I wouldn’t go completely crazy,” she chuckled before growing serious again.

“You’re not worth more dead than alive, and for what it’s worth, you mean a lot to me. You have your difficult moments sometimes but I wouldn’t want to be stuck out here or kidnapped by Grounders with anyone else. I mean it, though, Murphy; I’m sincerely glad that you’re alive and breathing. I like having someone who doesn’t always agree with me on things for the sake of agreeing. You make me see different views that I can’t see sometimes. It means a lot that you’re here with me now.”

Murphy hadn’t expected her to say any of these things and was shocked into silence. He swallowed hard, feeling an ache in his stomach. He turned around to look at her.

“Thank you, Clarke. You’re literally the first person to say any of those things to me. You know that?” He bit his lip and shook his head before he hesitantly reached out and placed his hand on her cheek, giving her time to reject it or move away from him, but was relieved when she didn’t. “I like being out here with you too.”

She smiled warmly at him and searched his stormy eyes. Clarke looked like she wanted to do or say something else to him but she placed her hand over his on her cheek. “We should start walking again if we want to make it there before dark.”

Murphy felt an electric shock when she placed her warm hand on his and took his off reluctantly. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

The two of them exchanged understanding looks at each other before they began to walk towards the direction of the bunker again, much to the dismay of their feet.


End file.
